Grandpa gave me a magic spyglass, true.
With it we'll see far, into a story world, me and you,
and write it all down in our book.
Come on now, there's more to look!
"Do you see, my darling girl,
the white and pretty house on Walnut Street, that pearl?"
"The white house, the white house... a grandpa and granny live inside.
Is that the one you mean?" she replied.
"That's the one. And how's the grandpa, dear?"
"Oh, he's all white! With hair and a beard down to here,
he looks like he's kin to Old Man Cotton-Beard, I fear!"
"And the granny?"
"Granny? She's tiny like me, it's true,
but white like grandpa, and... she looks a bit like you.
They're so alone, those old folks, don't you agree?
No children? No grandchildren to see?"
"They have, but they've all gone away,
far off, to foreign lands to stay.
But listen, dear Bia, don't you hear a sound, a tiny peep?"
"I think I hear a meow... small and thin, from deep asleep."
"And... do you see anything more over there?"
"A basket, I think... of wicker, woven with care."
"And in it?"
"I see little fluff balls, fur so fine, and a cat."
"A cat?"
"A very catty cat, black-black as night is that
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